


Their Own Peace

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/F, Poetry, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s the girl with the steel in her arm: such a deal</p><p>with the angel of death who keeps spinning the wheel.</p><p><em>She’s</em> the girl with the head full of braids and the thread</p><p>of her destiny woven on patterns of red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their Own Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "mayfan + poetry". Enjoy!

She’s the girl with the steel in her arm: such a deal

with the angel of death who keeps spinning the wheel.

 _She’s_ the girl with the head full of braids and the thread

of her destiny woven on patterns of red.

She’s the sword in the sheath, she’s her master’s sharp teeth,

and the blood on her hands forms her own bridal wreath.

 _She’s_ the breath of the bless, she’s the rose on the tress,

and the lives that she’s saved form her own wedding dress.

When the spirit of life meets the edge of the knife

and the spirit of death meets the bride of her wife,

they exchange not their hearts but a hint of their parts

so the other sees beauty divine in their arts.

And the sheath of the blade grows a flower inlaid

to the sharpest of iron: equality’s aide.

And the tress with the rose of fatality knows,

of the wheel that determines the spinning of death.

When they meet yet again on the shore of their ken,

they embrace with the thought less of _how_ but of _when_ :

For when spirits fall deep into love, they don’t weep

but they spread both their wings and take faith’s greatest leap.

So the girl with the steel and the girl with the seal

of the Pulse came to stand before fate’s spinning wheel.

With their hands clasped between, the girls faced the unseen,

and they plead that their people would find peace serene.

Soon the people of Xing heard the showers of spring,

with the peace of the Clans like a gold wedding ring

as a token of love from the Clans not above

nor below but at last truly _one_ : The white dove

of their peace settles high in the glint of the eye

of the girls who have brought Xing the gift of their _ai_.

When they marry beneath the white canopy’s wreath,

they embrace and they kiss and they find their _own_ peace.


End file.
